Saving The Innocent
by Meet After Dark
Summary: After being stalked by a rather large black dog, Harry decides enough is enough and finally approaches the dog. Harry and Sirius family fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Everything recognisable in this fanfiction belongs to JK Rowling.

After reading many stories here on ff, I've decided to write one myself. I know I'm not the best writer, which is why I'm writing fanfiction, and not publishing my own series and making myself millions in the process (I wish!) Anyway just a note on the date and time thing, I won't be doing that after this chapter, I only did that to show glimpses of Harry's childhood.

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><p><strong>June 28, 1983. 11.32pm<strong>

In the dark of a sweltering night, the Dursley family sat in the tidy living room watching TV. The windows were pressed open in the hopes of enticing the nonexistent breeze to enter. Vernon Dursley, the patriarch of the family, sat glued with sweat to his leather recliner. His squat legs spread and eyes glazed over, he played the part of a pot bellied pig perfectly.

Petunia Dursley sat on the matching leather couch unable to keep still. Her summer dress hung loose on her frame as she held her precious son, Dudley. No matter how hard she tired he just would not sleep. With great effort his wails had quietened to the occasional sob. His chubby face remained stained with tears.

The television screened a useless infomercial about the latest vacuum that insured cleanliness that no other machine could match. Had her attention not been elsewhere, Petunia would have found this highly interesting. Vernon on the other hand couldn't care less, but the remote was just too far to reach.

From somewhere behind the family, a cry of a young child reached their ears. No tears came, just dry sobs of a dehydrated child. He hardly had the energy to cry, yet he couldn't stop. He tried to say "water" but nothing came out. His throat was just too dry to form any words.

Outside the room Vernon mustered up the energy to roar at the child to shut up, before he fell back into his semi conscious state. Somewhere in Petunia's mind there was a small voice telling her she really should be taking care of that boy's need too. But her Dudley came first, and always should. Right now Dudley needed his mum, and he just would not share his mother's attention.

The one thought that all occupants of number 4 Privet Drive shared was that it was damn hot tonight.

**March 4, 1986. 8.06am.**

If anyone were to look inside the house of the Dursley family they would think that the queen was expected to soon arrive for breakfast.

Petunia Dursley raced around the house making sure nothing was out of place and there was not a speck of dust to be seen. After checking every room and straightening one last photo (the only one that contained the boy; perfect for days like this), she left for her bedroom to change into something nice.

While she was doing that Vernon Dursley was downstairs bribing his son into being on his best behaviour for the day. He had made sure Petunia had cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, and was now promising on taking him to his favourite ice cream parlour for lunch.

He walked over to the cupboard under the stairs and opened the door, which creaked in response. In the corner sat one scared boy. Grabbed by the arm, he was forced out of the cupboard and into the open area of the entrance foyer. Squinting at the bright light, he looked up to Vernon, ready for the punishment that was sure to come.

But when all Vernon did was tell him to be on his best behaviour for the lady that coming to visit, he was a little shocked. Vernon told him that the lady would be asking him about his home life, and what to tell her. He would tell her that he was lucky to have the Dursley's as guardians after the unfortunate death of his parents. He would also tell her that he was treated as well as any other child and he couldn't ask for more.

When the doorbell was finally rung the four members of the Dursley's were standing together by the door, fake grins plastered on their faces, and ready to greet whatever came their way.

**April 17, 1987. 7.25pm.**

Harry could smell the delicious scent of roast pork waft into his room under the stairs. His stomach rumbled in response and he rubbed his small hand in circles against it as if it would numb the pain. This was always his least favourite punishment, going without food. Well, he was given a piece of breed twice times with a glass of water, but it was never enough for a growing boy. At least the pain in his stomach hid the pain of his black eye.

When compared to his cousin Dudley, Harry was a small boy, in weight and height. Dudley always got feed at least twice as much as Harry, and hardly ever participated in school sports. Dudley was a spoilt boy and already a bully at such a young age. Harry wasn't used to life's luxury and was on the receiving end of Dudley's bulling. But this was what Harry was used to and this is what he expected.

At school Harry tried to hide from Dudley by always being near a teacher. The often praised him for being such a courteous and helpful young man. But even they turned their backs on Harry, and encouraged him to go play with his cousin and make friends, because every young boy needed a legion of friends to play with.

As the sound of cutlery scraping against crockery reached Harry's ears, he gave up on wishing that just this once he could taste the delicious smelling food. Instead he lost himself in his imaginary world of magic and fantasy. Tonight he was the legendary wizard Merlin, whom he had learnt about in school. He fought dragons and saved the world from evil. Little did he know how his fantasy would one day become real.

**January 4, 1989. 12.04pm**

Harry hated Dudley. He hated Dudley for being a bully and for being his cousin. He wished and wished that he had a different family, or at least be treated the same as Dudley. Why is that Dudley gets everything he asks for? Why is it that Dudley can get away with absolutely everything terrible he has done and still be Petunia's angel?

Harry was huddled against the corner of his cupboard with his only blanket wrapped around him for warmth. He loosely held his left arm against his chest as tears dropped down his face. He was in pain, yet it was nothing unusual. In fact he had come to expect pain on a daily basis. He knew no different, and learnt to keep his mouth shut and not say a word. His teeth clenched in pain as a wave of nausea now washed over him.

Harry had spent the morning cleaning out Dudley's second bedroom, occasionally looking longingly out to the snow covered street where he could see children playing. When there screams of joy reached his ears he would turn away and continue cleaning as if it were his favourite job in the world.

Dudley having, seen Harry leave his second bedroom, followed the much smaller boy towards the stairs, and when Harry was half way down them, Dudley placed two large hands in the middle of his cousin's back and pushed with everything he could manage. He sent Harry catapulting down the stairs, the result being Harry having a large lump on his head and what was quite possibly a broken arm.

And of course it was his fault. Not Dudley's, but Harry's, because Dudley was never at fault. Harry would do anything to just live one day like Dudley!

Outside of the cupboard large footsteps could he heard. Slowly, Vernon knelt down and began to slowly open the multiple locks on the door one by one, to force more fear into the boy. As daylight crept into the undersized space, the boy cowering in the corner shook with absolute fear. Vernon smiled in response, and evil expression crossing his face.

**Present day, September 14, 1990, 10.05am**

The school bell signalling the beginning of class had rung out some time ago, and yet not all students found themselves. It was only the beginning of the school year and yet one young student was already well on his way to detention.

Just before school had began, Harry Potter had been chased out of his school yard by Dudley and his friends. It was Piers Polkiss who first began throwing rocks at Harry, but soon the whole gang of bullies joined in, following Harry with sharp stones and rocks. There was no place inside the school that would be safe for Harry, and so he left, right out the front gates and past parents lovingly saying goodbye to their children for the day. Not one cared to stop him.

Harry didn't give much thought to school. He used to like learning, it made him feel good when he got answers right that his classmates couldn't. But the Dursley's wouldn't allow him to ever get better grades than Dudley, and so he stopped listening and trying. And when the teachers couldn't stop the bullying and the pain he gave up wanting to go at all.

So now Harry found himself in a small park about two blocks away, his clothing stuck to his body in a sticky mess and his black hair for once smoothed over his lightning bolt scar. This particular park was one that Harry frequently visited. It was out of the way that it was never very busy, so he was often able to get the swings to himself. The left side blocked off the view from passing traffic with old oak trees, which were also good for climbing. The very yellow, and very plastic slide occupied the centre of the park while an old steel merry-go-round was found on the right near the swings.

Harry lay in the shade of the biggest oak tree, with his hands lazily placed atop his stomach. This was his happy place, his escape. He no longer believed in the fairy tales of his early youth that he wished and wished to be true. Thinking back, he could clearly envisage the noble knight he played that saved a small and weak village from the wicked dragon. It would be a dark and overcast day, nothing like today, when the dragon would descend on the village. The villagers, with no way of protecting themselves, hide in the town hall, praying for a miracle.

That was when Harry would come in.

Riding his large chestnut steed, he would come in at the last minute, just before the dragon raised his head to burn the village, and slay the creature. Being the hero, he would become famous and known everywhere as the brave knight who selflessly risked his life to save an entire village. But Harry's daydreams very rarely consisted of him playing the hero. He had many dreams like that, but they had now changed. He now dreamed of being free of the Dursley's. Sometimes he would even imagine his parents and the three of them living happily together in the countryside.

The sun rose to it's highest point in the sky and still Harry had not moved. His eyes had closed some time ago and he fell into a content sleep. His mind conjured up images that he would not remember, and when he finally awoke it was to feel a slow drip of moisture onto his forehead. Groaning, Harry rolled over and wiped his head. Looking up he saw that the sky was still a clear blue and not a cloud in sight. Looking around in bewilderment Harry surpassed the urge to scream. Standing only a metre away from him was a big, black, shaggy dog. And if Harry didn't know better he would have thought the dog was grinning at him.

The only contact the frightened boy had with dogs was with Aunt Marge's bulldog Ripper, and he certainly was one to avoid. That dog certainly lived up to his name. Harry still bore the scars on his lower leg from when the last time the two met.

Harry decided the best option was to run to the nearest safe place, that being the oak trees. He easily scaled the closest one; he had spent many hours playing around these trees. Laying with his chest against a sturdy branch, Harry looked down to the dog who now stood directly below him. It seemed friendly enough with a wagging tail and a long, slobbering tonguel rolling around, but there was no way Harry was going to take his chance with it.

Harry's brilliant green eyes never left the dog's dull eyes. After a good ten minutes, the mutt grew tired of the game and curled up at the base of the tree. Taking his chance, Harry carefully dropped to the ground on the other side of the dog. Chancing only one look behind him at the dog, he starting making his way back towards the Dursley house, to pretend he had been at school.

Had Harry looked again, he would have seen the dog following him home, and making himself comfortable in the garden bed amongst Petunia's prized flowers.

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><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! I got reviews. Thank you to the seven people who reviewed. I got excited. And to the people that alerted and favourited: I also like you. You flooded my inbox and made me happy.**

The morning dawned over Little Whinging to reveal a dreary and overcast day. Grey clouds decorated the sky and a flash of lightening followed by a low rumble could be heard in the distance. The air was cold and contained a chilly breeze that reached all corners and crevices. Within hours raindrops began to fall. Big, fat, heavy raindrops fell in such quick succession that everything within reach was thoroughly drowned.

It was a Sunday, a day of enjoyment and rest for most. The street of Privet Drive was quiet until midday, but even then the rain kept most inside. The Dursley's of number four were enjoying a very rare sleep in. Vernon had endured a tough week at Grunnings. It was probably the worst week he had since beginning there. For the third time this year, Grunnings was in a deficit after the monthly reports had been prepared. A quarter of his co workers had been made redundant, with more promised to come. And Vernon's boss was hinting that he would be next if he didn't pick up his game.

So suffice to say, the peace and blissful oblivion that came with sleep was more than welcome. At exactly 9.02am the shrill ring of the house phone awoke the residents of number four from their deep slumber. At first Vernon Dursley hit his alarm clock with such force it was knocked off onto the floor with a loud bang. When the piercing noise continuing, he picked up the phone roughly and held it to his ear.

"Hello." His muttered into the receiver.

There was no answer.

"Hello." Vernon repeated himself a little louder this time.

And again there was no answer. Just the heavy breathing of a silent person on the other end.

"Now listen here, I-" But Vernon was cut off by the beeping that indicated that the person had hung up.

Slamming the phone back into the base, Vernon swung his legs over the bed and slammed them onto the cold floor with such force the ground shook. Grumbling about delinquents and prank calls, he left the creaking bed and stormed down the hall towards the staircase, leaving a thundering noise of footsteps to reverberate around the aged house.

"BOY! GET UP NOW! I WANT MY BREAKFAST COOKED AND ON MY PLATE IN TEN MINUTES!" Snatching open the locks on the cupboard under the stairs, he opened the door with such force that he broke a hinge, leaving the door to hang at an odd angle. This only increased his anger, and he decided to give it a harsh kick just for good measure. Now not only was the hinge broken, but the vent was caved in, but as it was from the inside of the door, it could easily be blamed on the boy. Feeling slightly better, Vernon left to go wait in the kitchen for breakfast.

Harry of course had been awake long before the phone rang. In fact he was awake before the sun had decided to make an appearance for the day. He had never been able to sleep late like the Dursley's preferred, but Harry liked it better that way. It ensured that he got a little bit of peace and quiet to himself each day. Silence is golden, he told himself. Silence is golden because it meant that the Dursley's weren't around to annoy him.

But then the phone rang.

That blasted phone was just the beginning of a terrible day for Harry. He strained his ears to hear any noise come from the master bedroom after the call was answered. Soon enough a noise reached his ears, and it was by no means welcome.

When the door to his cupboard was opened with such force it was hanging on by a thread, he shook with fear. When Vernon's large, beefy foot left an indent in the vent he was almost paralysed with fear. Almost, but not quite. When his eyes were suddenly thrust into the light of day again, Harry realised that Vernon had left and now was the time to move. Escaping his small confines, he rushed to the kitchen to prepare Vernon's favourite breakfast: bacon and eggs.

Vernon barked orders and commands at him the entire time it took him too cook breakfast. Lines such as 'don't burn the damn bacon boy!' and "don't you know the difference between sunny side up and scrambled?" were common place in the kitchen. Harry would be lying if he said the comments didn't affect him. After spending so much time cookinh, Harry knew how to cook eggs and didn't need the insults.

By the time Harry was serving Vernon his breakfast, Dudley had finally been roused by the smell of food and made his way down to the table. The way he was staring at his father's food as it was being placed in front of him was reminiscent of a drooling dog waiting faithfully beside his owner during dinner.

After breakfast was finished and plates licked cleaned, Harry was handed the usual list of chores to complete in an unreasonable amount of time. But the good news was that the Dursley's would be leaving for a few hours to do some shopping.

When the downpour began, Harry couldn't help but snigger at the image of the Dursley's being caught out in the rain. Petunia would try running to the car in those stupid heels of her so not to get her clothing or hair wet, and in the process fall right on her bum. Vernon, loaded with all of the bags of shopping, would be struggling to juggle the bags while trying to find the car keys to open the door of his recently cleaned car. And poor Dudley would be almost hysterical and throwing a tantrum against car until he was let in.

Sometimes it was better to be alienated by your family. But that sometimes was very weighted, with the option of a) having a loving family against b) being hated by your family leaning very much towards option a.

The rain still had not let up by the time the Dursley's had arrived home. They each entered the house one by one soaked to the bone. When Harry didn't hear Petunia's whining voice telling Vernon and Dudley to wipe their feet and remove their wet coats, he knew something was wrong. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner from the kitchen to see his aunt and uncle storming towards the kitchen. Immediately Vernon began ranting, anger radiating off not only him but Petunia as well. It seemed that anger was the theme of the day.

"If you can't drive properly than don't be on the road at all! Damn Lunatic drivers!" Vernon seemed to be referring to nobody in particular. "I don't care if there is a family emergency or if you are out of milk, if you can't drive stay away from those who can!" Vernon slammed his fist down onto the ice cold marble bench. Sensing danger, Harry tried exiting the room without attracting Vernon's attention. He knew Vernon was angry, and he was losing control of his emotions.

"And where do you think you're going?" Stopped dead in his tracks, Harry had no choice but turn around and face his uncle.

"To finish my chores." Harry liked to think he was brave enough to stand up to Vernon, but when his voice cracked he knew he wasn't fooling anybody.

"They should have been finished by now. We've been gone hours. What have you been doing while we were gone? Enjoying the television that my hard work paid for? Or playing with Dudley's favourite toys? Well freaks like you don't deserve the luxuries that we do." Vernon's face was that close to Harry's that he was showered in spittle. He had this crazed look in his eye that absolutely terrified Harry. Sure he had seen him angry but never like this.

"I bet it was your fault wasn't it? I bet it was your freakishness that caused the driver to smash into our car. We take you in out of the goodness of our hearts and this is how you repay us? You could have hurt Dudley, killed him even. But that probably was your plan wasn't it? Knock off Dudley so that we will spoil you? Well your wrong freak. You will never be anything more or anything less than a FREAK!" With the last word, a heavy hand came down to strike Harry's face. The force of it alone pushed Harry to the ground.

"YOU CAUSED IT!" A foot landed on his stomach. "IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOUR FAULT!" Another foot came down on his wrist.

"Vernon." Came the quiet voice of his wife.

"YOU WANT US DEAD? IS THAT IT?" Picked up by his frail arms Harry was thrown against a kitchen cupboard.

"Vernon." Petunia spoke a little louder this time.

"WELL I WILL KILL YOU BOY!" Controlled by rage, Vernon ran at the boy with all intents to go through with his threat. Another fist landed against his porcelain skin. As he raised his leg there was no stopping him. He was out of control.

"VERNON!" The scared voice of his voice of his wife seemed to snap him back to the present. Looking around him, he saw the stunned and very pale face of his wife. Standing behind her mirroring the exact expression was Dudley. Looking down at his hands he saw the blood that coated them. On the floor was the boy, moaning quietly in pain. At least he was still alive.

Vernon looked back to his family. The three were speechless. No words could ever convey their shock, fear and in Vernon's case guilt. Sure he had backhanded the boy before and given him a small whack here and there as punishment. He had locked the boy in his cupboard for days with little food on multiple occasions. But this, he couldn't even begin to comprehend what he had done. He kept on looking between Dudley, the blood, Petunia, the blood, Harry, and back to all the blood again. There was just so much blood and couldn't understand why there was so much of it.

But the worst sight by far was the boy. His face was swollen and bloody. The first hit must have broken his nose, causing the majority of the blood. But the boy was whimpering and clearly in pain. As cruel as he can be, even Vernon couldn't stand the sight in front of him. What made it worse was the he had caused it. He had lost control.

With as much care as he could muster, which unsurprisingly was not much, Vernon lifted the boy up and cradled him against his chest.

"Vernon, what are you doing?" Petunia asked fearfully.

"Putting Harry to bed." Vernon replied as if it he carried a broken and bloody to bed all the time.

"Putting Harry to bed?" Petunia repeated dumbfounded.

"Yes, I think he's tired. How about we all get an early night? Clean this mess up and watch a nice family movie and head to bed? Vernon didn't wait for an answer as he walked Harry to the cupboard and placed the boy inside, not bothering to try and close the broken door.

"Has dad gone mad?" Dudley whispered to his mother, but for once she couldn't answer. Words failed her as the depth of the situation hit her.

Has Vernon gone mad? Petunia thought. Vernon hadn't just lost his marbles, he had scattered them all along the floor ready to bring down the rest of his family down with him.

Over the course of his lifetime Sirius Black had spent time in some of the most unsavoury places. Azkaban would have to be right up there as number one. Coming in second would be the four hours he had spent under James' bed which he shared with probably two weeks of unwashed clothes, most significantly the grey socks he was sure were once white.

However this, right now, would be competing for that second spot. He was stuck of all places in the pound. He was surrounded by unclean, mangy and noisy mutts. Not that he was one to talk, but at least he took the time to clean himself in the last week. But of course how he found himself here involves a story.

In the month that he had been trailing his favourite (and only) godson, Sirius compiled a list of what he had learnt.

Harry should attend school more often.

Harry should eat more.

Eating scraps from a garbage bin is still better than the food in Azkaban.

While his much larger cousin is treated like a king, Harry is treated like the dung on his shoes the Dursley's cannot be rid off

The resident's of Privet Drive don't treat homeless dogs too nicely.

Harry needs a better family. That family would be me.

Harry is scared of dogs. Therefore, harry is scared of me.

Since the first time they met, Sirius had made sure to check in on to know where Harry was at all time and try to know what he was doing. That meant spending time around the Dursley's, and that is not something he would wish upon his worst enemy. Except for maybe snivellus. That would be one confrontation he would request a front row seat for.

But it hasn't been easy for a scruffy dog to find food. Some people take sympathy on him immediately and give him a piece of whatever delicious food they are eating. As previously noted, he has had to rummage through the garbage on occasions. However making a mess through somebody's rubbish is not always advisable. When doing so, always be on guard for danger. Not from the humans , but the cats. Those dangerous devils are not to be crossed. Not that he will ever admit it, but Sirius was chased by an angry hoard of cats after trespassing on their land on Wisteria Walk. After receiving several scratches, his lesson was learnt.

Harry it seems, is oblivious to Sirius following him around. Apart from the first day at the park they have only come face to face once. That day at the park he stumbled across the boy by accident. He was searching for Harry, but was only crossing through the park in the hopes of finding a nice spot in the sun to have an afternoon nap. When he saw the messy, raven hair attached to the small body of a boy, he instantly knew. If he wasn't James' son then he was certainly doing a good job as an imposter. When he got closer any doubt was erased. That boy was most definitely Harry Potter. He was so happy he had to refrain from giving him wet, slobbery licks. Instead he chose to drool on the boy's forehead until he woke. It was a wise choice.

The second time the two directly crossed paths was on a day Harry left school early. It was coming more common that Harry would leave for whatever reason, so being the man and good godfather he is, he decided to confront the boy, as a dog. Seeing the black shaggy dog probably did more damage than good. Whether Harry recognised Sirius from the previous week or not he didn't tell, but ran as soon as he saw him. That ruled out approaching him as a dog, so instead he decided to follow him (Sirius decided he was _not _stalking him, stalking a ten year boy was just plain creepy) and keep an eye on him.

That was how he decided he hated the Dursley's. He spent many hours watching and listening to the household. At first he was particularly listening to the news. Surely an accused mass murderer escaping wizard prison would make muggle news, but it appeared he was safe. Still being new to the role of Minister for Magic, Fudge probably wanted to cover it up. Perfect for Sirius. If only there weren't any wizards around and he could finally be free.

When Sirius really discovered how Harry was treated, he was outraged. They made him do the majority of the chores, talked down on him and gave him less than a quarter of what they gave their precious pig of a son. For revenge he did the only thing he could do as a dog; dig, excrete, and chew every single plant Petunia owned.

And that was how Sirius Black found himself in a pound. Petunia Dursley caught him and called the police because she didn't know who else to call. She wanted the owner to pay for damages. Fat chance of that happening.

It was like being back in Azkaban. Confined spaced, crazed occupants surround him, crappy food, and the stench of dog faeces equalled a very unhappy Sirius. But what was worse were the people that came in and gawked at him through each cage like he was some zoo animal. He growled and barked at the ones who had scathing remarks about how ugly he was and now nobody would want to adopt a mutt like him. To the ones that smile at him he would wag his tail and roll onto his stomach. But that didn't change the fact that nobody wanted him.

As the lights went out on the third day here, Sirius curled up in the corner to wallow in his own sorrow. Soon he would get out, and soon he would find a way to rescue Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all your support! I read over all my reviews before writing this. I'm not really happy with the ending of this chapter, but the more I tried to change it the worse I made it.**

Yesterdays' rain had left a heavy scent in the air the reminded him so strongly of the nights spent running through the grounds with his wolf friend, that Sirius lost himself in his memories. One night in particular was brought to the front of his mind. It was a late night in November in sixth year. The quick falling rain left the fur of all four marauders feeling heavy with the weight of the water. Not that they noticed as they frolicked playfully towards the forest.

Running further into the forest the boys lost sight of the brightened moon until all around them was pitch black. Remus was the first to stop, being the werewolf the other three boys quickly followed. He turned around to face the stag standing proudly next to his shaggy furred friend. Atop of the stag's head lay a tiny mouse hardly visible in the dark. After sharing a long look with his 'pack,' the werewolf pounced the unsurprised canine and the two continued rolling in the dirt until a playful shove came from the stag.

The play continued until they all grew tired. Remus sat down in the middle of a clearing, basking in the last hour of pure moon light. Sirius and James came to rest on either side of him. At some stage Peter joined them. Being the rat that he is, the werewolf's contagious fooling around was too dangerous. He kept his distance for safety, and only rejoined the group in moments like this.

The four enjoyed the quiet time together. Nights like this were always their favourites at Hogwarts; however pranking Snape did come in a close second. They were happy to just sit quietly and enjoy each other's company. Sirius fell asleep that night with his head resting on Remus' paws. When he awoke it was to find drool covered paws playfully swatting his head. James' never let Sirius forgot that one night in November when he actually drooled on Remus in his sleep.

All it took was the smell in the air to take him back to happier times, and all it took to bring him back the uncomfortable sensation of another dog placing its nose a little too close to his rear.

Turning around in surprise Sirius couldn't help but growl at the Golden Retriever standing behind him with its tongue hanging out and tail wagging madly, all the while smiling goofily at him. Inwardly sighing Sirius approached the dog and cursed himself for getting into this situation. Sniffing the dog in return and wagging his tail, he acted the perfect dog. The lady holding the lead to the retriever gushed happily, while he heard the volunteer from the shelter telling her she honestly didn't think anybody would want to adopt him, and she was so happy that he had found a home.

Released from their leashes, the golden retriever bounced towards Sirius, who couldn't believe the stupid animal didn't realise he wasn't actually apart of the canine family. Stopping in front of Sirius, the cream coloured dog barked a bit too loudly for liking before running off, turning his head to see if Sirius was followed. Regretfully Sirius was found running just behind the canine, hoping this would be enough to get his ticket out of that dingy pound.

When the adoption was finalised, the lady fitted him with a brand new purple collar (Sirius thought it was a horrible choice until he thought that pink would definitely be worse), and clipped him into the back seat with the annoying dog from hell, whom he discovered responded to "Sparky." As they drove away, Sparky, when not staring happily at his new best friend, decided to drool on him. This, he decided, was Remus' revenge.

When Harry next awoke, it was to a pain so strong that he would have yelled out in pain if he could, but even that hurt too much. His was on his back on his thin mattress with a spring poking the centre of his back, meaning he must be in his cupboard under the stairs. The room was dark, apart the unnatural glow of a light from somewhere within the house. Before he could think about anything else, his mind was greeted again with darkness.

Petunia Dursley was scared. When she closed her eyes in the hope to sleep that night, the image of the broken boy on her kitchen floor was the only thing she could see. She couldn't rid her mind of that awful image. The way he lay on the floor with his wrist at an unnatural angle and the blood that seemed like a second skin would stick with her forever. Whenever there was a silent moment or when she closed her eyes it would hit her.

She was absolutely petrified that Vernon would do something like this again, but attack Dudley. Vernon lost control, and if Dudley had been in the way, Vernon wouldn't have noticed until it was too late. Replacing the image of Harry with Dudley in her mind's eye brought tears to her eyes.

Something had to be done, but maybe if they ignored the problem it would go away, even though she seriously doubted that. But what was there for her to do?. What if she said the wrong thing and Vernon turned on her? What if he decided to leave? Without Vernon, the Dursley's had nothing. No money, to assets. Everything was in Vernon's name. She was trapped with no way out.

It was 2am and Petunia sat silently in an arm chair in the living room. A small lamp cast a shadow over her face, giving her an almost demented look. She had just realised there was something she would have done, and she couldn't she hadn't seen it earlier. It was the only way to keep her family together and happy: Get rid of the boy. Ever since he was dumped on the doorstep nothing but bad luck had followed them around. Getting rid of the boy would solve so many of their problems.

When the sun rose over Privet Drive the next morning, the neighbourhood was calm and quiet. It was almost a perfect scene. The rain from the previous day was forgotten with not even a cloud in the sky. Fathers left early for a day at the office, and mothers ushered their children into their big, shiny cars before dropping them off at their expensive private schools.

Vernon Dursley had woken up in a mood. He had a terrible headache and the thought of food made his stomach roll uncomfortably. He had drunk himself into oblivion the night before, making the events of the day merge into a hazy mess of half formed memories and memories he wished he had forgotten.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Petunia cooked breakfast and nobody mentioned Harry. Dudley didn't even ask for seconds. With a tight smile Petunia placed the bacon and eggs on Vernon's plate, receiving a grunt in response. When breakfast was over, his plate was still full. He left in a hurry that morning.

"Mum?" Dudley asked cautiously once the two were in the car. "What's going to happen to Harry?"

"I don't know Dudley."

"Will he be alright?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, okay."

Sure Dudley and Harry were never close; in fact Dudley was responsible for some of Harry's injuries over the years. But there was something in him, quite possible that big beating muscle in his chest, that made he feel for the boy. They were cousins after all.

When Petunia returned home alone, he stood in front of the boy's cupboard for ten minutes without moving. Carefully she opened the door and was hit with the stench of blood and urine. She couldn't get into the cupboard properly with the boy in there. Placing two bony hands on his ankles, she pulled the boy out. Roughly he emerged into the daylight and the full extent of his injuries could be seen.

His face was a swollen mess. If she did not know that Vernon had put Harry into the cupboard last night, she would have denied that he was Harry. Blood coated his face and clothing. His breathing seemed short and shallow, but at least he still was breathing. She wrapped the boy up in one of Dudley's old blankets and lifted him up against her chest.

She stopped at the front door before looking out the window and seeing no other human. It was now or never, if she wanted to go through with his. Gathering up all her courage, Petunia forced herself out the door. As quick as she could she placed Harry in the back seat and started driving.

It was a beautiful day to go for a long drive. The sun was still shining, there were few cars on the roads. She kept on driving until she didn't recognise the streets and the faces of people looked unfamiliar. She searched for a quiet street away from prying eyes. Stopping the car, the picked up the boy and placed him in the alleyway amongst the black bags of somebody's rubbish. The mustard coloured blanket stood out strongly against the black. She vaguely hoped that it would mean that somebody would find him soon. With one last look at the boy she wiped away the stray tear that had fallen.

On the drive home a million thoughts were running through her head. They were sure to be caught now. She realised that dumping the boy was probably the worst option for them all. She could face prison time, or they could take away her Dudley. She almost stopped the car then to return to the boy, but she was too far away now and the risk of getting caught was too great.

Another though was Dudley's question from the previous night asking if Vernon was crazy seemed to be at the front of her thoughts. No, it wasn't Vernon that was crazy, it was herself. What sane person would dump an ill-treated, injured and bleeding boy in some alleyway miles from home? What sane person would allow said child to suffer years of starvation and labour?

Feeling the weight of her actions wash over her, Petunia pulled over and let herself cry.


End file.
